At first glance, Florida and Montana don’t seem to have much in common. Florida is home to beautiful beaches and the subtropical Everglades; in Montana, we’re better known for our blue-ribbon trout streams and glacial mountain peaks.

The Virginia Constitution does not allow anyone with a felony conviction to vote unless their rights have been restored by the governor. But on Friday, Virginia Gov. Terry McAuliffe (D) announced he would immediately restore voting rights to anyone who has completed their sentence for a drug offense, and reduce the waiting period for other violent felonies from five years to three.

A Florida campaign to restore voting rights to an estimated 2 million residents—mostly low-income people of color who have felony convictions on their record but never even were imprisoned—could be a political game changer in that influential state.

The last round of voter restrictions came after the 2010 Republican wave, when new GOP majorities passed voter identification laws and slashed ballot access in states like Pennsylvania, Ohio, and Florida. Now, three months after the 2014 Republican wave, another class of state lawmakers are prepping another assault on voting rights under the same guise of “uniformity” and “ballot integrity.”

Phillip Agnew isn’t trying to make history; he’s just heeding its call. As the head of the Florida-based Dream Defenders, Agnew is one of many young civil rights leaders drawing from the rich legacy of black freedom struggles while moving into the 21st century with a deft use of social media and sometimes-scathing irony.

Marissa Alexander, the Florida woman who was sentenced to 20 years in prison for firing a warning shot at her abusive ex-husband, was released from jail yesterday after a nearly five-year ordeal. In August of 2010, just nine days after giving birth to her daughter, Alexander, now 34, was assaulted and threatened by her estranged husband Rico Gray.

Anold Abbott's life mission is to feed the homeless. For decades, he's organized pop-up soup kitchens in church parking lots, public parks and on Fort Lauderdale's famous beach. But following his latest test of wills with City Hall, he's now known as the 90-year-old Good Samaritan who got cited — not arrested — for defying a new ordinance that regulates outdoor food lines for the homeless.